


songs of the grave

by HelmetParty



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Character Death In Dream, Established Relationship, F/F, Ito Junji, Junji Ito - Freeform, Psychological Horror, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-06 11:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13410339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelmetParty/pseuds/HelmetParty
Summary: Angela Ziegler is a woman of science, of logic and reason. Nothing exists without a cause, nothing can't be explained. But even she is at a loss.





	songs of the grave

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by (rather, directly based on) Junji Ito's long dream comic, which you can read [HERE.](https://imgur.com/gallery/4e4G5). I seriously suggest you do so. Please read the tags before proceeding, as even someone like me had nightmares about this concept, and I don't scare easily.

 Angela paces the halls of Overwatch's medical wing. A hovering display is to her right, showcasing news from around the world. However, another hovering display in front of her full of budget information and concerns for the organization has her attention. Walking hurriedly and focusing on several different things, she walks as if she is on a mission.

 The corridor is long and white, and it smells of disinfectant but also of Angela's faint perfume. Her hair is tied into her typical ponytail, a long, loose white labcoat flows with the gentle breeze of her walking. Today seems to be like any other day, and even Angela has forgotten, in the midst of her duties, what plagued her.

* * *

 

 Her duties play out as any other day. Review with Winston on the events of the day, make sure the new recruits aren't causing trouble. Most of the day she spent researching, as was her main priority. After all these years she was still perfecting a perfect serum to make a soldier stronger. It wasn't an exact science, and let's just say many of the volunteers had to be sedated almost immediately after consumption as they would turn almost feral. She also checked in with the engineers, whom we're creating the prototype of a new suit for Fareeha. Angela hadn't let the woman in on it yet, though, it was a birthday present; and so far, so good. 

 Fareeha, of course, came to her personal office after training that day. She was sweaty and bruised, which was normal - she worked too hard. Fareeha gave two knocks on the open door, a towel hung over her shoulder as she entered without a word. 

 "Hey", she says, striding over to Angela to place a kiss on her lips.

 "Evening" Angela says, a smile on her face as she sets her paper aside. "Sorry I didn't have a chance to come around today."

 The woman chuckles and gently leans on Angela's desk. "I know. You're even busier than the commander, and he works himself raw." There is a pause, and then she continues. "Anyway, you coming over tonight? I have a bottle of wine and new blankets which you would enjoy."

 Angela's eyes light up for a split second, but she frowns. "I can't. I have to get this paperwork in, otherwise, I'll lose my job."

 Fareeha scoffs. "As if they would fire _you_."

 They grin at each other and Angela nods. "Well, either way, duty-bound this needs to be in tonight. I'm sorry. Tomorrow?"

 With a sarcastic shrug, the woman stands and heads for the door. "Fine, but you're on thin ice cadet." She mouths a kiss, and so does Angela.

* * *

 Angela wakes up with a gasp.

 She had forgotten, almost, what had been bothering her. She was too busy to remember.

 For almost a week now it had been going on. A delusion, she thought, brought on by overworking and not enough sleep. She didn't go to sleep until midnight last night, perhaps this was the reason...

 No. She has been this way since college. Only now has this started to happen.

 Last night's dream lasted two weeks. The longest it had. And she remembered almost every bit.

 It started with a day-long dream but went from one to three to a week to a week and a half. Angela sat up in bed, her eyes wide open and her hands shaking.

 Winston came to her room as fast as he could manage. He was a man of science, he would surely understand and work to a conclusion.

 "Long dream?" his deep voice bellows, sitting next to her bed, fixing his glasses. "It sounds like a fever dream, are you feeling anything else?"

 "Nothing," Angela is trying to stay calm, but she could barely remember what happened yesterday; rather for her, two weeks ago. "No fever, no headache, no nothing. But these dreams...Winston, I can remember everything as if it really happened. I can't remember what happened yesterday, for me it was weeks ago it seems..."

 Winston can tell she's trying to keep it together, but her hands are still shaking and her eyes have genuine fear in them.

 "It started almost a week ago, Winston. They're getting longer. I thought that this was a delusion! I mean, it must be a delusion, correct?" 

 The gorilla is nervous, but he nods. "It must be. Perhaps a side effect of any medicine you have taken lately."

 Angela does nothing, except look down at her hands. 

 "I want my sleep monitored tonight, then we may figure this out."

* * *

 Typically, no matter what had happened in her personal life, Angela Ziegler was always focused on her work. But the Angela people had seen in the halls today wasn't one of science and grace, but one of fear and horror. Her hair was frizzed and her skin looked horrible. She was always preoccupied with something, however, you could tell she wasn't really there.

 She was trying to work out in her mind a solution; a disease, a mental illness, anything that could explain her dreams. If she could put a name to it, she could make a cure for it. She was a woman of science, she could solve anything. 

 Winston, instead of doing his usual, was constantly calling and talking to people. He was looking for more information to help his friend; Angela was more important than any work at the moment. Jack, though working, as usual, was checking in with Winston every now and then, and on his short breaks, he popped in with the woman herself to console her. 

 She was an absolute mess.

 Night time came and Angela sat in her office with a cold glass of water in her hand. She is staring blankly at the paperwork on her desk, her mind still just as shaken as that morning. Fareeha came into the room, this time knocking three times and waiting for a response. Anglea mutters, 'come in', and almost starts to cry once she sees the woman in the door.

 Fareeha holds her for a while, Angela unable to cry. 

 Fareeha knew her worst fear, and despite bringing the dead back to life, Angela feared death more than anything.

 An hour passes before Winson calls Angela and tells her that a room has been accommodated to record her sleep and that someone would be there to monitor her sleep through the entire night. Fareeha is hesitant to leave her and asks to stay, but Angela cuts her off with a kiss and a promise that she would be fine. 

 Hesitant, she nods and leaves. 

 Winston assures her that if anything happened to call him immediately, though he gave a gentle assurance that it maybe wouldn't even happen again. Maybe it was a rare occurrence, he said, and that it wouldn't ever happen again.

 Angela knew better, though. Her intuition punched her with dread and fear of death.

* * *

 She awoke at 8 AM - no alarm was in the room, but her body knew that was her normal time.

 She gasped, the sudden change of surroundings shocking her.

 A month. A whole month.

 This time, with the recordings, it was clear something was off - REM lasted for much longer than it should have, and her brain waves we're uncharted. Overwatch was sent into a panic - this was real, whether they liked it or not - and the data supported it.

 Angela was crying most of the day, unable to remember much; she could hardly tell real memories from dreams. Doctors from all over the country were called in to analyze the data, and even though regular duties we're not stopped, everyone was talking about Mercy.

 However, instead of doing nothing, the woman forced herself into her office. She began to scribble down every single possible answer to this mess; every single possible disease, every single potential delusion. The data supported nothing. 

 This was unprecedented. This was uncharted.

 The day goes along and eventually reaches night time; she already had a plan, though a nonscientific one; just don't sleep. Until she knew exactly what it was, she would not sleep, she told herself. It was too dangerous. What would happen if the dreams reached years? Decades? Forever? She pondered in her head what would happen to a human body if it were to enter an eternal dream. What about an eternal nightmare? Would that not be hell? Would she ever wake up?

 She starts to shake and cries again. This was all becoming too much. 

 Fareeha doesn't knock and this time comes into her room. 

 Angela's plan is shot down, and Fareeha tells; not asks; that she would sleep with her tonight. Just the two of them. 

 It made her feel better, but she still held fear close to her heart.

* * *

 Five months.

 A year.

 Three years.

 The next three days are the worst of her life. Her skin starts to sag, her eyes becoming more tired as the days go. She's losing weight, and none of the treatments work.

 She's forced into sleep again for the doctors to monitor her sleep once more - this time, she wakes up screaming.

 Ten years. 

 The woman, which had once been respected as a pillar of science and logic, looked dead; her eyes were opened wide, her hair began to fall out. She looked like a corpse.

 She couldn't remember much of anything about her real life and instead went on about nothing more than a dream.

 A woman once afraid of death embraced it, and once she was able to come to her senses about reality, she begged for it.

 

 

 


End file.
